Sunflower Syndrome Reworked
by fandomhive
Summary: Alfred is terrified of his Russian captor Ivan, who is hauntingly captivated with the idea of them 'becoming one'. Or so he should be. Hearts will be broken and morals will be questioned when America comes to the frightening realisation that he is falling in love with his kidnapper. Russia x America (Rusame)
1. Chapter 1

Hello! Fandomhive here. I wrote a story a while back called _Sunflower Syndrome, _however, I was suffering writer's block towards the latest chapters and hit a brick wall with my story. I've decided to start back from scratch, tweaking it, lengthening it and improving it as best I can. I hope that you enjoy this story!

**Pairing:** RusAme  
**Rating:** T, subject to change.  
**Chapter Warnings**: Some violence.

_Alfred is terrified of his Russian captor Ivan, who is hauntingly captivated with the idea of them 'becoming one'. Or so he should be. Hearts will be broken and morals will be questioned when America comes to the frightening __realisation__ that he is falling in love with his kidnapper. _

**Sunflower Syndrome.  
Prologue: маленький волк [Little Wolf]**

_Baby, baby, rock-a-bye,  
On your side you mustn't lie,  
Or the little grey wolf will come,  
And will nip you on the tum,  
Drag you off into the wood,  
Underneath the willow root._

Alfred shuddered as he pressed his jacket to his mouth in a feeble attempt to suppress the cold winds from his reddening face. Truth be told, he was terrified that he accidentally stumbled across into the Russian border. The stories that he'd heard of Ivan's troubled past were heart-breaking, but surely enough to frighten even the hardest of hearts. Russia was a place alien to him, with harsh winds and dangerous animals. It was so different to the soft, colourful atmosphere that he thrived in.

Alfred yelped suddenly at sharp sensation of his feet collapsing beneath him. He'd trampled on a root that had been hidden underneath the white sheet of snow, causing himself to fall to the floor. As soon as his face hit the bitter ice, he winced in agony, thinking for sure that he was to die in the blizzard.

"Fredka?"  
The American rolled feebly onto his back to get a close look at who was calling his name. He faced with Ivan, the embodiment of Russia himself. He offered a hand to the blonde before giving up leaning down beside him to inspect his wounds.

"That was quite a fall, да?" he spoke, worry evident in his tone.  
"Y-yeah…Ivan." Alfred could only mumble in response as his numb lips restricted further talk. He hoped that Ivan was aware of this, and gave him a grateful gaze.

"Would you like to come back to m-"

Everything blacked out.

**Sunflower Syndrome, Chapter One: клетка [Cage]**

_It has been this way for as long as I can remember. I cannot recall when I stopped being a Nation and became His Property instead. I am unaware of the passing days and yet I know that they pass like clockwork. It's nothing more than a sequence; waking up to the sight of those dead, violet eyes beside me as they watch my every move. I no longer have to strain to hear soft and unnerving tone which breaks me from my slumber each dawn. In fact, I expect it._

_It is morning. The chilling figure removes my handcuffs, allowing me to stretch my arms. I seize such freedom and use it to move to my feet, stretching my aching back thoroughly and reach for the cup beside me._

"You're up by yourself today, and you're even having a drink! I brought you coffee, your favourite…to reward you for your good behavior recently."

Alfred greedily gulped it down without thought. Ivan watched with presumable glee, smiling from ear to ear as the American paused and threw his hands to his now watering eyes. He spluttered uncontrollably in pain, resulting in a coughing fit that was only worsened from his now burning tongue. The coffee was _hot, _and Ivan had not warned him of such a thing.

"Fredka? Are you _crying?" _Ivan spoke innocently. "Look at me. I want to see you cry. You look so _beautiful _like that."  
Alfred froze up at the words, feeling a sickening sense of dread creep up on him. This was not the first time Ivan had given him such an order. He did not obey, shivering in the covers and willing the tears away by themselves in the hope that his captor would become bored and leave him alone to deal with the pain by himself.

"_I told you to look at me." _Ivan's voice became considerably colder as he pulled Alfred's chin into his palm, tilting his face forwards. He used his thumb to wipe the tears away with care and Alfred, sensing that it was not the time to fight back, allowed him to do so.  
"You know," Ivan drawled. "I should take a photograph when you cry. It's such an elusive sight, isn't it? It's not every day that a _Hero _cries."

Alfred wanted to sob further at the reminder of his past. How naive he'd been; truly thinking that he was a Hero when he'd proved himself to be a weakling under Ivan's order.  
"мое любимец."

Alfred did not know Russian. He'd only guessed a few words - as the man only spoke in his Mother tongue when praising him or whispering soft, terrifying threats in his toxic tone. Alfred could only hope that what he said was _safe. _But there was no room for hope in the clutches of his captor, so Alfred decided to change the subject as quickly as possible.

"Is it okay if I go to the toilet?" he asked warily.

_You still don't trust me on my own._

"Of course, but I shall escort you, da?" Ivan spoke innocently. "...I don't want you abandoning me like you've tried in the past…" He took Alfred's hand more roughly than necessary and led him to the bathroom. The blonde shot him a steely gaze as he was forced to go to the toilet in front of him, feeling as trapped as a rat in a cage.  
_  
You won't let me leave._

Once finished, he washed his hands and turned to the tall, alabaster skinned man beside him. _Ivan. _The Russian who had captured him one dark winter's night when he had wandered too far into the wilderness. It was spring now, and although the blossoms and soft breeze held a note of hope for the rest of the world, there was none there for Alfred, who could see no blossoms, feel no breeze and knew for certain that he wouldn't be leaving any time soon.

"I have a present for you." Ivan spoke suddenly.  
Such words made Alfred's blood run cold. He did not expect niceties from the Russian.  
"What is it?" he replied.  
"You needn't be so anxious, Fredka. Cheer up, да? It's in the kitchen, so you must come and see!" Ivan's voice was eager as he firmly clasped America's wrist once more and pulled him downstairs, leading him into the kitchen table.

_He pulls me onto his lap, still constricting my arms in his grip. One hand motions towards the present; a single flower on the table top. He cradles me like a mother would her child and softly says, "Do you know what this is?"  
I nod in acknowledgement. "It's a sunflower. But why is it in a cage?"  
Ivan pauses for a moment, and I can see as his expression shifts from thoughtful to smug.  
"You are the sunflower. This cage here is protecting the flower from the evil of the world."  
Silence.  
"You're the cage, right?"  
I felt his arms snake around my neck, pulling me close. "да."  
He suddenly lifts me down and places the flower on the window ledge.  
"Let's have breakfast."_

Ivan sat down in his chair, offering a sweet smile to Alfred. The gesture was not returned. Ignoring this and pretending not to notice, Ivan chuckled before gently taking Alfred's chin.  
"_Open."_ He spoke softly. Alfred obeyed and the Russian lightly slid a spoonful of egg into his mouth.  
"That's good, да?"  
Ivan pulled a face of mock upset but his violet eyes burned in outrage at being ignored.  
"Manners, мало подсолнечник." he snapped. "Surely Arthur taught you those _at least_."

Alfred froze up at the name. Arthur Kirkland. His_ friend. _He'd almost forgotten the other Nations by now. Lost in thought, he did not feel Ivan prying at his numb lips and only snapped from the stupor at the Russian's warning growl.

"Play nicely, сука." he snarled.

But it was too late for Alfred to apologise. Ivan had already seized Alfred by the hair, forcing him to yelp out in pain. Tears sprung to his eyes once more and with his mouth opened, Ivan easily pushed the spoon inside.

"That wasn't so hard, right?" spoke the Russian menacingly. "Is it such a struggle to just _behave?"  
_"Let go." Alfred sobbed weakly, squirming against Ivan's grip.  
"Nyet."

Ivan did not loosen his hold until the plate was cleared, dropping his fistful of Alfred's hair and watching as the American's face connected with the wooden table.  
"I hate you." he choked out.

Ivan shrugged. "You do not hate me, мало подсолнечник. When you and I become one you will finally see the hard work I have put in for you, da? And you shall thank me." He nestled into his victim innocently and ruffled his hair. Alfred shivered, unaware of the slight murmur which escaped from his lips. He cursed himself for sinking into the warmth of Ivan's thick white coat. It was so warm…so soft…

"_Bayu-bay, bayu-bay." _Whispered Ivan, holding the man close.

The truth dawned on Alfred just one moment too late.  
"Y-You put something in the food..." he gasped, before darkness swallowed him once more.

**Sunflower Syndrome, Chapter Two: шарф [Scarf]**

Alfred's eyes cracked open, vision hazy from exhaustion. The room around him was spinning less quickly now and it gave him the opportunity to focus on the vast white walls that trapped him in. The room itself was sparsely decorated, the only source of light coming from a large white window that was accompanied by a frightening new addition to the room -the caged sunflower.

Alfred gazed down at his wrists; his handcuffs were fitted but not locked, and he could not be sure whether this was deliberate. He decided against any attempt at removing them, and instead chose to walk towards the window. It was three floors up and flooded the room white with the calmness of the snow which fell across it each second of every day.

The American sighed breathlessly as his fingers slowly traced the cage on its ledge. It was withering from malnourishment, and he thought, was oddly much like his own self in many ways that he couldn't even begin to describe. Since his entrapment the season before, Alfred had lost weight – so much so that his clothes had begun to grow loose around his withered frame, and he too was beginning to wilt.

There was a light tapping on the door. Alfred took his cue, diving back into the relative safety of his bed and shutting his eyes.  
"мало подсолнечник?" the sickeningly sweet voice rang in Alfred's ears, causing him to twitch ever so slightly – but the Russian's tone soon turned cold.  
"You're awake. _I can tell_, you know. I'm not as inattentive as you take me to be, Fredka."

With this Alfred shifted his position, lifting his frail frame against the pillows.  
"Right." He mumbled bitterly. "You put something in the food."  
To this Ivan frowned. Carrying the feigned innocence as a child caught in the act of crushing a spider, he even pouted as he tried to justify his actions.  
"да, I did. I had an errand to run and it still isn't quite finished. However I can trust you not to leave here, hm? You know what will happen otherwise!"

The American nodded slowly, fixing a hard glare on his captor. With this, Ivan flashed Alfred his trademark cheerful look - one which the blonde secretly cursed himself for being given a sense of familiarity and safety from.

Ivan silently bid him goodbye before closing the door. Alfred sat in anticipation of the click of a lock, or the rattling of keys – but none came. Confused, the blonde waited for a few seconds before approaching the door and lightly twisting the handle. It swung open with ease, bringing a loud creak in its wake. This caused Alfred to wince – nevertheless he seized his opportunity to escape, easily slipping off his open handcuffs in the process.

The thought of escape was the first to come to Alfred's head. But something else tugged at the back of his mind; and that was revenge. To exact the pain that Ivan had brought. To amplify it, volumise it, to make the damned Russian shatter to pieces. Without weighing the safety of the situation, Alfred slowly edged his way down through the halls, his breath quickening in pace.

Once he had reached Ivan's room, he quietly opened the ancient door handle and revealed the chambers in its splendor. It was beautiful, just as expected; painted a pale, iced blue with a large white bed and ivory furniture. There were many bookshelves and paintings furnishing the walls, and Alfred took a moment to skim past them before finding what he really wanted – Ivan's clothing drawer. He smiled wickedly as he reached for the scarf compartment, tugging the precious gifts from his kidnapper's sister until they frayed and fell to pieces.

But what startled him the most was not how easily the scarves tore under his light pull. It was how he did such a thing without thought, without thinking of the consequenses. That was what made him as bad as Ivan.

_Ivan.  
I couldn't have done this. I shouldn't have done this. I've taken apart the only humanity he has left. The only gift he has ever been bestowed, the only humanity in his heart. It's my fault. My heart jumps as I strain to hear footsteps making their way up to the first floor. Frightened and unsure of who had just entered the house, I know that there is no other choice. I open Ivan's window, wincing as I am greeted to the bitter cold. It is easy to escape with my now thin figure, and once I am outside and clinging to the windowsill, I close my eyes and let go, hoping that the snow will break my fall, and not my spine._

**Russian – English Dictionary.**

_I have had to use translating sites to gather these words. If corrections need to be made, I am more than happy to fix them!_

**мое любимец:**My pet  
**сука****:** Bitch  
**Nyet**: No  
**мало подсолнечник****:** Little sunflower  
**да****:** Yes  
**Fredka:** Alfred

I want to thank everybody who has read this so far! I will be updating rather regularly, alongside To The Moon and Back and Disobedience. I will respond to reviews, follows and favourites. After all, they are what keep my writing going! Nothing makes me happier than the knowledge that people appreciate what I write.  
So please, if you enjoy, leave a comment! 


	2. Chapter 2

**Pairing: **RusAme

**Rating: **T,subject to change.

**Chapter Warnings: **None

_Alfred is terrified of his Russian captor Ivan, who is hauntingly captivated with the idea of them 'becoming one'. Or so he should be. Hearts will be broken and morals will be questioned when America comes to the frightening __realisation__ that he is falling in love with his kidnapper._

**Sunflower Syndrome, Chapter Three: незнакомец**** [Stranger]**

Alfred Jones had always thought of himself as some form of Hero. He'd based this on the mere knowledge that he was aware of his power, and yet used it for good. Who was anybody to go against him? And yet it came to saving himself, he was utterly inexperienced. The fall was nothing short of unfortunate; resulting in a painful _thud_ and _snap_, confirming the American's fears that he'd fall on something other than snow. Something much harder, more painful. But the most terrifying thing of all was not the sense of numbness and dull pain. It was the lone thought that Ivan would find him with the knowledge that he'd escaped, and exact revenge upon him once more.

He was certainly awed by the fact that it wasn't Ivan who rescued him at all, though he wasn't entirely sure who it was. Through swollen eyes he couldn't see anything but the thin crack of the familiar snow landscape. A stray Baltic, perhaps? Or a Russian native? But such petty thoughts weren't a priority. Not when Alfred was lingering somewhere between pain and complete nothingness.  
In a place unknown to him, Alfred was entirely at the mercy of a stranger. He was aware of the care he was being given - a soft bed, clean clothes and plenty of warm soup and drinks, but through a dry throat and swollen lips he could not manage words. Was this care? Alfred didn't know anymore. He'd almost forgotten true kindness - such a concept being nothing but a distant, yet pleasant memory.  
Ivan's treatment became mandatory. Each chilling touch was nothing more than an expected addition to the day - and where he never actually assaulted the American in such a way, he certainly gave no hints that the thoughts weren't playing on his brain.

The third day was far fresher than the previous two. Alfred lay propped in the pillows of his bed – it was plush and luxurious, so different from his own. His wiry frame was wrapped in bandages, bruised and cut. Alfred appreciated each sharp pull of the bandages that reminded him of somebody caring enough to help him heal. Every now and again, he could faintly hear footsteps, and eventually the soft clunk of a bowl being set onto his bedside table sounded throughout the otherwise calm room. A hand gently tapped Alfred's chin, willing it to open – he froze in fear. Suddenly, Ivan's sadistic spoon feeding came to mind and he winced, twisting his face away. _Who was to tell him that it wasn't poison in the food?_ But there was no forcing that followed. Alfred was simply offered something, with no dark reasoning behind it. The thought calmed him a little bit, reminding him that he was now safe.

"Thank-you. Thank-you." He choked out, but there was no reply. Alfred decided that he didn't mind, placing the blame onto his dry throat not forming the words properly anyway. He rolled over to get more comfortable but immediately wished he hadn't. The bandage had caught on his clothes, pulling it apart and exposing his wounds. He cried out, tears forming in his eyes. Unbeknownst to him, the searing pain was immediately replaced with the sensation of soft hands rearranging the dressing for his wounds.

Before he even knew it, Alfred was lying in the bath. The warm water rippled across his many injuries, causing blood to leak and fade into the blue. Following his previous injury he had been hastily fed, watered and disinfected and now he was bathing his own cuts and bruises. However, this proved to be extremely difficult and required the assistance of his stranger. They took a sponge and slowly ran it under a warm tap, holding it against his skin and scrubbing. Red stains melted away, presenting some less painful cuts. Alfred calmed under the influence of his helper's careful and gentle washing. Retreating footsteps followed once he was finished, and Alfred was left alone to his thoughts.

After weeks of sparse bathing - the American had to do it in front of Ivan, but for no sexual means, he simply wasn't trusted alone - there was no greater feeling compared to being clean and healthy for once. Alfred searched for the shower switch, flicking it on and allowing the warm droplets to spray onto his face. It felt so relaxing, even reducing the swelling in his eyes. Alfred found that if he blinked under the water, his eyelids would open more and more. After a good ten minutes, Alfred could finally see. His surroundings were not what became apparent first. It was the water that caught his gaze, and then his skin; both red with his own blood. He shivered, suddenly feeling rather sick. He barely noticed the stranger walking into the room with freshly washed and ironed clothes. Finally, Alfred raised his head, first noticing the clothing, and then the person that held them. His head span.

_It was none other than Ivan Braginski himself. _

**Sunflower Syndrome, Chapter Four: неизбежный**** [Inevitable]**

Ivan stopped dead in his tracks. His violet eyes grew wide in fear, like a deer caught in the headlights.  
_He had been caught._

He turned on his heels, leaving the room and swiftly closing the door behind him. With luck, Alfred would still be immobile enough for him to gather his possessions and rid himself of him. He scrambled upstairs, gathering the things that Alfred had acquired during his stay (of which there were few) and stuffing them into a bag. He took one last wary glance at the sunflower before he left the room - it had withered completely, its petals scattered across the cage. But he would keep it there as a fond reminder.

"Hello?" a voice could be heard faintly from outside, but it was not Alfred's. Ivan recognised the gentle tone, the smooth flow of syllables accompanied by the Chinese accent.  
"Wang Yao." he murmured. _How inconvenient. How ironic. _He dropped the bags outside the top floor bathroom where Alfred was still locked in and made his way downstairs to open the door.

He was greeted to Yao's familiar face and smiling eyes.  
"Ivan!" he spoke brightly, offering him a hand to shake. "I was wondering if the two of us could speak for a little while. Would you mind if I came inside?"  
Ivan paused, glancing back into the half-lit hallway. Alfred was many floors up, and his sounds would not be heard. If Yao remained polite and did not snoop, he could pull it off.

"да." he replied, ushering Yao inside and shutting the door behind him.  
Ivan watched as the Chinese man removed his large coat, hanging it neatly on the rack beside the door, accompanied by his snow-covered boots.  
"It must have taken you a great effort to travel out here, Wang Yao." Ivan remarked as he led him inside. "Do you have any particular issue?"  
For some reason, Ivan did not suspect that Yao would be so willing to travel for simple conversation. It had to be something much more to go to such great length.

Yao replied in the silent affirmative, sitting down beside Ivan on the couch. One hand trailed up to his hair, fiddling with the ponytail nervously as a matter of habit.  
"You see..." he spoke suddenly, still retaining his quiet voice. "We have been trying to contact Alfred Jones for weeks now." Yao's wise eyes narrowed. "Have _you _seen him?"  
Ivan tensed. "Nyet. I haven't seen him either. After all, he and I aren't on the best ter-"  
"-That doesn't matter." Yao snapped. "It doesn't matter whether the two of you are close or not, does it? You and I weren't close. But what did you do, hm?"

When met with no reply, Yao gave up and looked away. Ivan had apologised for keeping him hostage and demanding his love when the two ended a formal Treaty all of those years ago, and he came to accept that the past was the past. But this situation was all too familiar.  
The Chinese man stood to his feet, which was only a few inches taller than Ivan's sitting form, and fixed him a sincere stare.  
"Tell me. Talk to me. Be honest with me. If you see him...notify us. _I'll be back_."

"до свидания."

**Russian - English Dictionary  
**_  
I have had to use translating sites to gather these words. If corrections need to be made, I am more than happy to fix them!_

**да – **Yes  
**Nyet - **No  
**до свидания**** – **Goodbye

**Thanks:**

_Everybody who has taken an interest in the story so far deserves the recognition. Here it is! Remember, reviews, follows and favourites are what keep an author going! I'd never be able to write without the knowledge that the reader enjoys what I write. Reviews are graciously accepted and I will always respond to them. Feel free to be creative, give your honest opinion or even ask questions to the characters in your answers, ehehe._

Thankyou to those who have followed/favourited my story so far!

**Abby-Flourite  
KyuubinUzumaki  
hetaliamaster99  
lovesunberry  
HP Girl 28  
lilypatch**

_**Reviews:**_

**Abby-Flourite**

R - I cant wait for more...again. Lol i hope the future of this story is free of any and all brick walls. Excited for more.

_A - Thankyou! It means a lot to me that somebody who has previously read is continuing! I will be adding much more information and plot in order to assure that I don't hit a dead end like last time._

**Roderica Edelstein**

R - I loved this first installment! Your characterisation of Ivan is particularly arresting. I'm really sorry to nitpick but I think 'my pet' should be 'Mой любимец' and the 'little' of 'little sunflower' should be 'маленький' - not being a native Russian speaker, though, I could be wrong, and anyway I was impressed by your use of the language to colour your story. Keep up the awesome!

_A - I'm really grateful that you've helped me to fix it, it isn't nit picking at all! Thank-you, i'll change the translation to the correct one! I'll try my very hardest to keep up the awesome~_

**lovesunberry**

R - i absolutely loved the other story, i love where this one is going! please keep up the fantastic work xoxox

_A - Yay! *blushing* This one will take varying twists and turns but will still follow the same plot as the original Sunflower Syndrome. Like I said previously, I am very happy that I have managed to hold your interest for you to want to read the rework! xoxox_

**KyuubinUzumaki**

R - Ooh I like the rewrite xD plz continue!

_A - Of course! I'll continue this one to the very end, unlike the last one. Thank you!_

**In the ****Next Chapter: **Alfred's recollection of the past and a World Meeting in which the angsty pair are both present!

Until next time!


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